


River Flows in You

by DarkAislinn



Series: Sawyer Shepard [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Extra Extra Fluff, Extra Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gift Giving, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Love, More Fluff, Romance, Smut, lots of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAislinn/pseuds/DarkAislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short vignette about my OC, Natalie, from the Sawyer Shepard series and our dear, sweet Garrus Vakarian as they spend Christmas together on the Citadel. </p><p>Very Christmas-y and fluffy with Christmas smut! </p><p>You're welcome and enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	River Flows in You

He opened the door to her apartment and was instantly flooded with scents he had never encountered; some were spicy, some were soft, some were a well mixed blend betwixt the two. It wasn’t at all unpleasant; the scents mixed with the cozy warmth of the apartment gave him a feeling of sheer comfort.

He was met with a deep, comforting sound from the small living room as his eyes swept the tiny apartment and took in all the green, gold and red. In the back corner of her apartment, near the fireplace – something she had insisted on installing around a time called ‘Thanksgiving’– there was a large tree decorated from top to bottom.

Quietly he made his way around her half-wall and leaned against it, propping himself up by his shoulder and watched as her head tilted and her body swayed every time her fingers stretched and danced over the instrument between her legs.

Her brows drew down in a soft wrinkle, her fingers playing over the silver strings, her wrist a graceful arch as the bow in her hand lightly, carefully, slid across the cello; a soft smile gracing her heart-shaped features, her eyes closed and her dark lashes pressed against her smooth, beige skin.

He’d witnessed her talents before but never in this context. Never before had he seen her play when she was alone and with her own thoughts. So raw. So emotional. So utterly Natalie.

It was a beautiful sight and he didn’t dare halt the moment.

The music shifted to a deeper bass, her features smoothing out and the breath left him when her lips parted.

“What child is this who lay to rest on Mary’s lap is sleeping? Whom angels greet with anthems sweet while shepherds watch are keeping?”

She sat forward, her body and cello as one, as her voice, deep, throaty and full of emotion resonated through him. “So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh. Come peasant King to own Him. The King of Kings salvations brings, let loving hearts enthrone Him.”

She swallowed, her throat convulsing, as tears cascaded down her cheeks, but her smile never faltered. “This, this is Christ the King whom shepherds guard and angels sing; haste, haste to bring Him laud, the Babe, the Son of Mary.”

Her voice broke on the last word and he stepped forward. She looked up quickly, startled, before her cheeks flamed and she ducked her head in embarrassment. “Garrus,” she said quietly, tucking her curled, chocolate hair behind her ear and laying her cello on its side onto the floor. “I didn’t know you were home.”

He reached out to smooth his hand over her hair, his heart still trying to put itself back together. He gave her a small smile, his mandibles fluttering high up his cheeks. “I know. I just wanted to watch you.”

She bit her lip, her hand coming up to rest on his as he thumbed her cheek. Once again, she swallowed, and took a deep breath, her lips pulling up at the edges in the smile that was meant for _just_ him. “Why?”

“It was beautiful; like you Natty.”

Her cheeks plumed with the dark red that he had grown accustomed to whenever he gave her a compliment and she, once again, ducked her head but his blunted talon caught her under her chin, forcing her deep green eyes to meet his light blue ones. A smile bloomed over her graceful features, her nose wrinkling.

His eyes roved her face hungrily, his fingers tightening in her hair for the quickest second before he contained his desire. The spices, the _scents_ , as well as her body were driving him insane.

“Natalie,” he whispered, pulling her up and pressing his leathery lips against hers. She sighed, her body sinking into his.

“Merry Christmas." Her parted lips gusted out little, tiny, breaths of air.

His throat seized when he looked into her emerald eye; large sage pools of love, desire, hunger, merriment, and sheer happiness. Trying to control his body’s raging urges he smirked at her, tilting his head and feigned confusion. “Is that what this is?” She wrinkled her nose at him and smiled.

 “Of course, goof!”

Almost immediately she bounced away from him towards the tree, her fingers reaching to touch the ornaments in an almost reverent fashion. She pointed to the top where a woman with flaming red hair sat serenely, “What do you think? Is it pretty?”

He pretended to contemplate the idea, running a talon across his chin.  She laughed a bright, tinkling sound against the darkened colors. He smiled, his chest tightening. “Gorgeous though not as gorgeous as you,” he said, smiling.

Her eyes wrinkled at edges when she grinned at him, stepping forward with her arms behind her back. When she was close enough she pulled a rather small package from behind her back and thrust it towards him. “I hope you like it,” she said quietly, her tongue darting out to moisten the corner of her lip.

“I--”

“It’s okay, just open it.” Her encouraging smile gave him some reassurance when he pulled the bow away from the box, his talons slicing through the omni-tape. The box fell open revealing his gift and he stared at it, dumbfounded. “You don’t like it do you?” she asked; worry sliding over her soft features.

He stared at the little white card in shock before raising his gaze to hers. “Is this… what I think it is?”

The worried look smoothed away into happiness as she beamed at him, nodding her head and brushing her curls behind her ear. “Yes. The brand new Widow. All you have to do is pick it up.”

He dropped the package to the floor and pulled her towards him in an almost bone crushing hug. She laughed, a deep throaty sound bubbling out of her chest and cascading over him like the warmth from the fireplace, as she leaned up to press her soft lips to his mandible and whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Garry.”

“I have something for you,” he said quietly, pulling away. Her brows drew down when he pulled a small black velvety box from his pocket and placed it in her hands.

She looked up into his blue eyes for a moment, a question on her lips. “Sawyer loved Christmas. It was a big deal on the _Normandy_.”  She gave him a soft smile, turning her eyes back down to the long thing black box in her hands.

She lifted the lid and gasped, releasing a soft, “Oh!”

He stood there watching the human woman in front of him as the anxiety coursed through his veins. He’d never been very good with giving gifts and not once had he ever given a gift to a female of whom he was in a romantic relationship with. Buying a gift for Shepard was easy; anything big, loud and deadly was enough to get a giant “Fuck yeah!” from him. Tali took any tech you gave her like it was the most precious thing in the world. All Liara had wanted were books about history and humans were never lacking in books about history. Wrex grumbled about it, but he _had_ been excited to receive the most advanced shotgun that both Sawyer and Garrus had chipped in to buy him.

But Natalie had been difficult to buy for. Sure, she loved guns and armor just as much as the next soldier but she was no Ashley Williams. So, to buy a present for her he had to do some research. He’d studied her as he would a difficult problem that needed solving. In the end he realized that her fringe – hair – was very important to her and she loved to do different things with it.

After an excruciatingly embarrassing conversation with a human on the Presidium he had settled on the barrettes. They were beautiful and he believed that the silver would compliment her skin tone; the blue stones would be a striking contrast to her dark hair and though he’d never admit it, the blue matched his markings so whenever she wore them they would match and others would know that she was his.

Her arms being tossed about his neck brought him back to the present. Her lips, damp with happy tears, slid over his. “I love them,” she whispered, her fingers dancing around the sensitive skin at the base of his fringe. She pulled back to quickly for his liking to carefully pick them up. She looked up into his eyes and said, “Help me put them in?”

He nodded, the words stuck in his throat from the look in her eyes. He took the offered barrette from her fingers and slid it into her hair, clipping it in place and did the same with the other. She turned her head, her fingers sliding over the silver and smiled at him. “How do I look?” She was more beautiful than the sun setting on the horizon of Palaven during the midseason as the weather cooled, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Instead of answering her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips against hers. She sighed against him, her body melting into his, her hands fluttering up to curl her fingers in his tunic.

Her moist lips parted under his as he slid his tongue over her bottom lip, tasting the sharp cinnamon on her tongue when she met him halfway and it took his breath away.

She slid her hands up his neck and under his fringe, pressing her blunted nails into his skin which elicited a deliciously deep moan from him that shivered up her spine, back down and reverberated out into her fingers and toes.

“Garry,” she whispered, tilting her head as his lips trailed hot, wanton, kisses down her jaw, over her throat and landed on her collarbone. He nipped at the translucent skin that was her pulse point, feeling his plates spread, and ran his tongue over the abused flesh to soothe the sting.

His hands followed the curve of her, pausing to tease the soft mounds of flesh and thumb her nipples quickly and continue towards her waist. Tugging her shirt up, he dropped to his knees to run his tongue between her breasts and down her stomach.

Her head fell back, a soft moan escaping her parted lips, as she pulled the shirt up and over her head, letting it drop to the floor. She leaned her head forward to watch him as his tongue circled her navel, the wetness pooling between her thighs.

“Garrus,” she moaned, feelings his hands squeeze her ass. She swallowed and tried to find a coherent thought. “Maybe we should, oh, ta-take this to the bedroom.”

“I was thinking,” he paused to nip at the flesh above her hip, “that we could do this in front of the fireplace.”

“How romantic,” she purred. Quickly he divested her of her clothes, leaving her naked and wanting before capturing her lips with his leathery ones.

Carefully he walked her backwards until her knees touched the front of the chair nearest the fireplace. “Sit,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling with barely contained desire.

Once she sat down he dropped to his knees and pressed heady kisses against the inside of her thighs, nipping and laving the flesh with his tongue.  His cock was straining against his trousers, but he was determined.

He bent his head and pressed his tongue against her clit. She moaned, throwing her head back. She was already so wet for him that it was almost unbearable, but he ignored the painful throbbing of his cock to run his tongue over the hardened bud of moist flesh again.

Her fingers gripped his fringe when he ran his tongue along her folds. Quickly, like lightning on a warm summer’s night, he dipped his tongue inside of her and pulled it back out to run it in slow circles around her clit.

“Garrus,” she moaned, her legs falling over his shoulders as her hips tilted up to meet his face. His talons gripped her thighs to keep them spread when he sucked her clit into his mouth. Her hips jerked upwards and she cried out, but she pressed closer to him.

In a slow rhythm he sucked her clit and alternated between sliding his tongue over her lips and into her. He wanted – _needed_ –to feel her come for him. Carefully he ran his blunted talon over her labia and circled her entrance, eliciting a quiet groan from her.

His finger slid in as his tongue worked on her clit. He looked up at her to find her eyes fixed on him and he felt his cock slide out from behind his plates.

“Oh-oh, Garrus!” she called, her hips thrusting up to meet his fingers and tongue. She was _so_ wet for him that he inserted another finger, finding that rough patch of skin and rubbed it while he worked her clit with his tongue.

He was worried for a moment that he would come, but her sobs of pleasure broke through his revere. “Garrus, Garrus!” she chanted like a prayer. Her hips thrust forward, her stomach clenched and he felt her insides tighten around his thick fingers as she came.

Slowly he licked her clit until she begged him to stop. She tugged him up by his fringe and she kissed him; her tongue dancing over his, tasting herself on his tongue and she moaned.

She pulled back, her eyes darkened with desire and smiled at him. “I feel I’m over dressed,” she whispered, tugging at his tunic.

Quickly they shed his clothes. Her hands trailed over his plates, her nails teasing the flesh between his plates and she pressed her breasts against his chest when she kissed him. She pulled back, despite the whine he let out, and smirked at him, pointing to the chair. “Sit,” she repeated his words back to him.

Not to waste a minute of her hands or lips on him he sat quickly. It took every ounce of his self control not to stroke his cock as she stood in front of him.

A blush plumed over her cheeks as she stepped towards him, her nipples bright pink and fully erect. She bit her lip when she bent over; laying her hands on the arms of the chair and pressed her cheek against his to whisper in his ear, “I want to be on top. Is that okay?”

All night, since the moment he opened the door, all he wanted to do was fuck her senseless but this question, this admission of her desire, drove him to the absolute brink of insanity. He’d never had a woman want to be dominant, to control sex.

His hand wrapped around the base of his cock, large, long, blue and thick. Her emerald eyes darkened and he could smell the arousal dripping off of her. He’d never had a fetish for humans, that much was true, but he had a fetish for _her_ and only _her_.

Before he could answer she settled above him, her hands settling on his shoulders, her eyes meeting his. Slowly she slid down and ran the tip of his blue cock over her clit, their moans turning to one.

His hands gripped her hips when her lips met his. He thrust his hips up and sheathed himself to the hilt in her tight, _so damn tight_ , wet warmth, loving the feeling of her pussy contracting around him.

She tossed her head back, her hair cascading down her back, her throat exposed and moaned. He watched her, his talons digging into her skin as she slid up and down over his cock, her breath coming out in huffs, her hair sticking to her temples.

The way the fire played over her skin was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. It was beautiful. The fire danced over her skin like Menae settling over Palaven during a particularly hot day.

She leaned forward, pumping her hips up and down over his cock, and pressed her lips against his ear canal. “I wanna come with you,” she whispered, taking his hand and pressing it against her clit.

He wrapped his fingers in her hair, pulling her against him and kissed her; hot and needing. She moaned against his tongue, tossing her head back when his finger found the right spot. “Garrus, I’m… I’m s-so close,” she said as she pressed her forehead against his.

When her orgasm slammed into her she cried out his name like a prayer on dying winds, her body convulsing. Feeling her come sent him over the edge; he gripped her hips tightly, locking his pelvis with hers as he spilled himself deep into her core, whispering her name over and over again.

As they sat in the chair before the fire she turned her face to press her forehead against his.

“I love you,” she whispered, kissing him. She pulled back to smile at him; her fingers going to touch the barrettes softly. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied softly, a smile tugging at his lips as he kissed her. 

A very Merry Christmas indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wanted to do some head-canon for Natalie and (because I'm a sap) I was listening to some Christmas songs. As I listened to 'What Child is This' I felt the urge to do a short story about Garrus and Natalie celebrating Christmas together. The title of the story is not necessarikly about Christmas, but when I listened to it felt very Christmas-y so I went with it. 
> 
> I'm not sure how many of you _actually_ care but the soundtrack for this chapter is as follows:  
>  1.) [River Flows in You](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lrF814OnFQ4&list=FLnR98JEuqMICVKN4PZmyuAw)  
> 2.) [What Child is This?](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=brmRUlKbF7g&list=FLnR98JEuqMICVKN4PZmyuAw)  
> 3.) For the sex thing... [Heavy in Your Arms](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_eOmvM-4zc&list=FLnR98JEuqMICVKN4PZmyuAw)
> 
> Also, for anyone who is curious, these are the [barrettes](http://www.amazon.com/1928-Jewelry-Sapphire-Diamond-Barrette/dp/B009VP2JX6) that I based the ones Garrus gave Natalie. I imagined that they would be smaller so she could wear two on either side of her head. 
> 
> As always, I hope that everyone who read this enjoyed it! :-)
> 
> PS. This is [Natalie](http://darkaislinn.tumblr.com/post/65162869708/this-is-the-holo-of-natalie-that-garrus-had-while#notes) for those who are curious as to see what _I_ think she looks like. :-)


End file.
